


A Little Tender Loving Care

by Persiflage



Category: Holby City
Genre: (There's a novelty!), Bernie Wolfe/Alex Dawson (Mentioned), Bernie Wolfe: World's Okay-est Lesbian, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s19e07 The Kill List, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Massage, Missing Scene, Nightmares, Serena Campbell: Bisexual Extraordinaire, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29601810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Canon compliant, set after The Kill List: Bernie's had a very long day dealing with trauma surgeries and is suffering the consequences. Luckily Serena's on hand to help.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 10
Kudos: 61





	A Little Tender Loving Care

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sanctitatem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctitatem/gifts).



> As regular readers may have gathered, 2021 has become the year of the 'Live Action' fic, in which I write a fic by hand and physically send it to someone, giving them an exclusive first read of it. This time it was doctorjameswatson/Sanctitatem's turn and she gave me a handful of prompts from which I picked _massages_ and _being physically/emotionally vulnerable with each other_ , although in truth this is focused on Bernie being vulnerable with Serena.

It’s been three weeks since Bernie Wolfe came back from her secondment in Kyiv. Three weeks of Bernie being attentive to Serena’s every need and desire. Three weeks of deliriously good orgasms and being made to feel the centre of the trauma surgeon’s world, but Serena still feels weirdly as if Bernie is holding back something of herself. She’s not really sure why she feels that way, given that her lover certainly doesn’t hold back when they’re in bed together. There’s just something, something that Serena can’t quite put her finger on, that feels slightly off.

Then one night, after a long, exhausting day of trauma surgeries that had started with Bernie being paged into work at 3.30 am as a consequence of a bad RTC on the motorway, continued with two patients who’d been injured on a building site, and finished at 6.30 pm (an hour after their shifts officially ended) after an old lady had fallen down the stairs at her daughter’s house where she’d been staying to babysit her grandchildren, Bernie wakes Serena in the throes of a nightmare.

Serena wakes Bernie, who is shouting something that she cannot understand, and then nearly gets punched in the face by the distraught blonde before she’s finally awake and cognisant of her surroundings.

It’s when Serena realises that Bernie is weeping silently that it finally occurs to her what she’d felt was missing from this new version of their relationship: Bernie demonstrating any vulnerability around Serena. She’s not sure whether the trauma surgeon feels it is her role to be the strong, silent type, or if it’s just the way Bernie is, but it’s weirdly comforting to have to deal with a woman who's clearly distraught about whatever had caused her to have a nightmare. 

Serena doesn’t mention this immediately; she draws the blonde into her arms and does her best to soothe and comfort her as her heart rate gradually slows back to normal and her weeping subsides into a few sniffles. Eventually she lifts her head and mumbles an apology for crying on Serena.

“Oh, love, you never have to apologise for that.” Serena kisses her forehead. “In fact, I want you to know that you don’t always have to be the big macho Army medic with me.”

Bernie stiffens a little and Serena rubs a hand up and down her arm. “What do you mean?”

“I mean just that,” Serena tells her. “You’re allowed to be sad with me. You’re allowed to cry on me. You’re allowed to be emotionally vulnerable with me. I won’t think any less of you if you are.” She brushes a kiss against Bernie’s soft lips. “In fact, I will think more of you if you’re vulnerable with me. You’ve already shown me, in many different ways, that you’ve changed since you went away, but emotional vulnerability is an even greater step. It shows how much you trust me.”

“I do trust you, Serena,” Bernie says immediately, sounding defensive.

“I know, love,” Serena says soothingly. “We wouldn’t be sleeping together if we didn’t trust each other. But being emotionally open with me enough to cry on me, to not try to hide behind the macho Army Major, is taking your trust in me to the next level.” She kisses Bernie on the temple and the blonde’s eyes flutter closed, so Serena kisses her eyelids too, then the tip of her nose, and both cheeks, before her lips alight on Bernie’s. It’s a soft, tender kiss at first, but it gradually deepens and becomes more passionate, greedier, almost.

Then Bernie pulls back and stifles a yawn behind her hand. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Nothing to apologise for,” Serena tells her. “You had a ridiculously long day yesterday, and it’s almost two in the morning. Let’s get some more sleep. Unless you want to tell me about your nightmare?”

“I’d rather sleep,” the blonde says. “Tell you tomorrow, well later, now.”

“Okay.” 

They curl up together, Serena spooning Bernie for once, and Serena fights off sleep long enough to be sure that her lover has gone back to sleep again before succumbing again herself.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Later that morning they settle against the headboard, each of them cradling a cup of coffee, and Bernie tells Serena about the nightmare that had awoken them both in the early hours.

“It was an insurgent attack,” the trauma surgeon explains. “I’d gone into the nearby village with a small team to provide them with desperately needed medical attention, and insurgents attacked the village.”

“Did they know you were there?” asks Serena.

Bernie nods, tight lipped. “It’s why they attacked when they did. They wanted to hit us as well as the villagers.” She heaves a sigh. “We lost half a dozen of the villagers and I lost two of my team, one of whom was the anaesthetist.” She peeks at Serena from under her fringe. “Which led to the arrival of Alex Dawson.” She adds this in a hesitant tone and Serena reaches out to clasp her hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“It’s okay for you to talk about her to me,” she tells the blonde.

“Okay,” Bernie whispers.

“When I was trying to wake you,” Serena says, “you were shouting something in a language I didn’t know.”

Bernie huffs. “Probably Pashto,” she says. “I know that in reality, when that attack came, I was shouting at the villagers to flee to safety.” She shakes her head. “I always got drunk after insurgent attacks, particularly if I lost any of my lot. I always hated the waste of life.”

Serena squeezes her hand again. “That’s hardly surprising,” she says. “Although I’m not sure getting drunk is a healthy coping mechanism.”

Bernie snorts. “It’s not, but it was how I coped.” She sighs. 

“Well, thank you for telling me about your nightmare,” Serena says. “I appreciate you being open with me. I don’t suppose it was easy, but –”

“Actually, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would,” Bernie says, sounding surprised. “Perhaps because you already know the worst parts of me: my infidelity with Alex, and my cowardice.”

“Bernie, you’re not a coward.” Serena squeezes her hand yet again. “Struggling to be emotionally vulnerable doesn’t make you a coward, so please stop thinking that.” She reaches over and takes Bernie’s empty coffee cup out of her hand, setting it aside, along with her own, then she draws the blonde into an embrace. “As I told you before, you are one of the most fantastic, fearless surgeons whom I know,” she says firmly, then kisses Bernie very thoroughly.

Once they surface to catch their breath, Serena suggests that Bernie has a bath. “I’m sure your back must be regretting all those surgeries yesterday,” she observes. “So why not have a bath and afterwards I’ll give you a massage?”

“Thank you,” Bernie says huskily. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Okay.”

They climb out of bed together and Serena goes into the ensuite to run a bath while Bernie pulls off her pyjamas, then she joins Serena in the bathroom.

“Are you going to join me?” Bernie asks, then hastily adds, “Not for sexy shenanigans. Just to share a bath together.” 

“Why not,” Serena says, and swiftly strips off her own pyjamas before climbing into the bath with her lover and reaching for the soap.

Some time later they’re back in Serena’s room; Bernie’s stretched out, face down on the bed, a towel under her, and Serena straddles her thighs, a bottle of Jasmine aromatherapy oil on the bedside table. Bernie groans as Serena sets to work on massaging her back, but it’s a moan of relief rather than a sexy moan, and she smiles to herself in satisfaction that she can help Bernie in this fashion when she needs it. 

When she finishes the massage Serena’s unsurprised to discover that the blonde is fast asleep and feels grateful that they’ve got the day off so that she can help Bernie to recover from the previous day’s exertions. The trauma surgeon had complained bitterly the night before about how her body was letting her down, saying that she was going soft as a result of civilian life, and Serena had pointed out the rather obvious facts: namely that it hadn’t yet been a year since she’d suffered from two major traumatic injuries, and therefore she should cut herself some slack and be a bit more forgiving of her body’s need for longer recovery times and for having a bit less stamina than before she got blown up. Bernie had looked rather embarrassed by Serena’s words and she’d gathered that the trauma surgeon wasn’t considering the injuries she’d suffered as a consequence of the IED.

She climbs off the bed and goes to wash her hands, then makes her way downstairs to have some breakfast and catch up on some reading in the latest issue of _The Lancet_.

She’s just made her way to the kitchen for another cup of coffee and is eyeing the back garden when a soft voice asks, “Can I have one of those too, please?” and startles Serena so badly she nearly leaps into the air.

“Could you wear louder shoes, please?” she demands, one hand pressed to her heart, which is thumping erratically. 

Bernie raises her eyebrows, then looks down at her trainer-clad feet. “Shall I wear clogs next time?” she asks crossing over to wrap her arms around Serena. “I’m sorry I startled you, love.”

Serena huffs. “Not entirely your fault,” she admits. “I was daydreaming.”

“Oh yes? About anything nice?” Bernie smirks and the brunette swats at her arm.

“You’ve got a one track mind,” she grumbles half-heartedly.

That elicits a snort from the blonde. “You’re the one with the one track mind,” she says. “Making assumptions about what I meant.”

“Well, if you will smirk like that,” Serena retorts, “what do you expect?”

Bernie chuckles. “So, coffee?” she asks hopefully.

“Yes, yes, you shall have coffee,” says Serena with a loud tut that’s belied by the fond smile gracing her lips. “How are you feeling now?”

“Well, my back feels a lot better, thank you, and I am glad to have had the extra sleep, too.”

“Good.” Serena pours them both a mug of coffee, then puts a croissant in the oven to warm through. “What are your plans for the day?” she asks, passing a mug of coffee to Bernie.

“I have none,” the blonde says with a quick shrug. “Why, do you?”

“No, but I was thinking that as it’s a relatively pleasant day, neither wet nor too cold, we might go for a drive and a pub lunch somewhere.”

Bernie smiles at her over the rim of her mug. “That sounds good.” She takes a deep swallow of coffee, humming with obvious appreciation. “Do you have somewhere specific in mind?”

“There’s a Michelin-starred pub called The Pony and Trap near Chew Valley Lake,” Serena says. “They do fantastic food and have a good choice of wines, too.”

Bernie chuckles. “I take it that I’ll be driving back, then?”

“Would that be okay?” Serena asks a little anxiously. 

“It sounds perfect, love.”

Serena drops a kiss on her temple in passing as she opens the oven and pulls out Bernie’s croissant. She slips it onto a plate, then puts the plate in front of Bernie.

“Thanks, love.” The blonde is soon tucking into the pastry with gusto, and Serena smile as she watches. The shadow of pain that had been lurking in Bernie’s eyes yesterday has gone, to her great relief, and she looks well rested again. She decides to keep a subtle eye on her over the next few days to ensure she doesn’t overdo it, although she acknowledges that there’s not much she can do if AAU has another day like yesterday with back-to-back complicated trauma surgeries since Bernie is their only trauma surgeon.

“Have I got something on my face?” the blonde asks, swiping at her mouth with a fingertip.

“No,” Serena says quickly.

“Oh. It’s just that you were staring.”

The brunette chuckles weakly. “My mind was wandering,” she says.

“Perhaps I’d better drive to the pub as well as back home?” Bernie says. “Only that’s twice already this morning that your mind’s gone wandering.”

“You might be right,” Serena agrees, not wanting to admit to Bernie that her mind was on her as she’s not sure how kindly the blonde would take it if she knew Serena was worrying about her.

Bernie finishes her coffee and croissant, and Serena downs the last of her coffee, then puts the mugs and plate into the dishwasher before the two of them get ready to drive to Chew Valley Lake. Serena can’t help thinking that today is the kind of day off she’s often wanted but had no one to accompany her. She’s grateful for Bernie’s presence in her life.


End file.
